


Run

by Twistedhellion



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mentions of Violence, self doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 17:31:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17882168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twistedhellion/pseuds/Twistedhellion
Summary: Trevor tries to run from his problems.





	Run

**Author's Note:**

> Context:  
> \- Trevor was in a dangerous duel with Valerie Crutchley, his classmate, resulting Trev almost being killed.  
> \- Even had had a mental breakdown and ran from the school and getting himself injured, which Trevor blames himself for.

He knew what it was, yet he kept pushing it away and masking it as something entirely different. It was like mixture of devotion, sincerity and shame, but felt lighter and not quite the same. It made his mind dizzy and carefree, but it felt Wrong. Completely alien and out of place in his mind. 

 

Trevor knew that it had something to do with the recent events. It had been one of the hardest years to survive through, ever since the year calendars were flipped over on ‘January’, and ever since the first X was crossed on the 1st day. It started with Valerie almost killing him in result of a heated argument. 

 

His O.W.L results had been decent, but not good enough. He had to try harder, yet it already felt like he was doing too much for his own mind and body to catch up. 

 

His bad luck didn’t stop when the summer break started. He didn’t get letters from Even or Arthur, and his grandma fell very sick, only to pass away after a week of hearing the news of her possible death. Trevor hadn’t even managed to plan a visit.

 

Experiencing loneliness had always been an unfamiliar concept, since it had always been present in his life. It was such a hollow, cold feeling that seemed to always leap out unexpectedly, out of nowhere. It would come in class, or when he visited Hogsmeade with Arthur. He was never Alone in Hogwarts, in fact, it was difficult to be alone in a place like Hogwarts. Trevor still had started to experience the feeling that no person really understood what it was like to be him, and that made him feel alone and unattached.

 

The thought alone scared Trevor himself, too. As though he was now changing into something different, and he was afraid that he couldn’t keep up.

 

He had started exercising more, and usually, quite literally, ran from his problems. It was the only thing keeping him sane, he supposed, as quidditch had became more and more irritating with Valerie on the team.

 

His feet were already aching from the bad shoes and the frosty, hard earth beneath them. His harsh exhales came out as puffs of mist and his temple was covered in sweat that had turned cold in the crispy air.

 

He didn’t know how long he had been running. Probably not long, though his legs hurt and screamed against every movement. It felt good, really good.

 

Even was in hospital. And Trevor was to blame. It was because of his arrogance and selfishness that Even had just snapped and ran away, only to arrive covered in blood and cuts to his dormitory. The memory of him, dirty, naked and shivering in his bed sent chills down Trevor’s spine and he ran a little faster to blur the memory with physical pain.

 

He remembered putting the quidditch gloves on – they were perfect in his hands. The dark green leather was smooth, but sturdy, resisting the wind and ensuring a firm grip on his broom. He didn’t wear them. He couldn’t escape the pang of regret and shame whenever he would put them on – he was sure he wouldn’t wear them and be proud of any won match, so he hid them in his nightstand drawer under a security ward.

 

Trevor bit his lip and broke onto full run. His muscles screamed and fought against it, yet he didn’t care. He did not care, and the different oppressed, conflicting emotions rose again in a familiar feeling of pain and insecurity that Trevor was so afraid to feel. 

 

His feet were starting to lose their coordination in the ache, and his left foot caught an unexpected root that rose from the ground as a small bump. He fell on the cold ground and let himself lay there for a moment of surprise, panting roughly. 

 

After a moment of catching his breath, he rose to his palms and knees. Trevor let out a small sob, whether from his raging thoughts or the physical pain, he wasn’t sure. He swiped his forehead and looked around. It was very dark already, and small flakes of snow were lightly, like small feathers, swaying down towards the ground and replacing the older, dirty snow with a new layer. It was a serene moment, and Trevor wished he could truly feel the calm moment of the surrounding nature. 

 

He tried to stand up, only to find his muscles giving up from his weight that suddenly felt too much. So he sat there, massaging his legs and tried to calm himself down. He looked at the nature and felt alone again. Truly alone in a long time, and the memory of his younger self, sitting in his room and sobbing onto his pillow rose to his mind. He remembered picking up his orange bed cover and wrapping it around himself to feel any sort of protection. Warmness was all he could remember feeling, but loneliness stood, like a shadow, in the back of his mind.

 

Trevor thought about this bed cover when he spotted something bright in the snow. It was dull, dirty and something not alive, peeking from the cover of snow just barely to allow it to jump out of its surroundings. Trevor inched closer to it. He swept the small layer of snow away to meet the familiar orange stripes and the white tuft of wool. 

 

Even’s knit hat was dirty and full of small leafs and sticks that took Trevor a while to pick out. He found one small feather in the process, and left it there. He let out a small laugh as he looked at the hat. One would say it was almost poetic, the essence of Even greeting him whenever Trevor would – literally – fall. Trevor was not a poetic person, but felt oddly reassured by the sight of something familiar and comforting and the thought of Even being there, even when he truly wasn’t. The thought of Even was comforting, and warm. It made him feel not so alone, unlike the bed cover.

 

Trevor allowed one tear run down his cheek before swiping away the next one. He sniffed, and stood up the beanie in hand. He decided to walk back to the castle. 

 

~

 

Trevor was sure he’d be caught by morning, but didn’t want to care. Instead he held out his wand, Lumos illuminating his steps through the dark hallways of the castle. Trevor’s body was tired, and his mind was even more so. 

 

Eventually he reached the broad double doors that led to the hospital wing. Trevor idly took down the wards and the locks of the door for enough time to allow himself through without being noticed. As soon as the heavy doors shut, he was greeted with the chilly moonlight illuminating the wide hall. He put out his wand and went to the closest bed occupied. He ignored the possible other patients in the room as he watched the boy in front of him.

 

Even was cleaned, clothed and color had returned to his pale cheeks. He looked eerie, almost ghostly under the pale light. But there was something reassuring in his relaxed form and calm breathing that let Trevor relax himself. He took out a chair and sat down, a little unsure of what to do. The washed knit beanie found its place in the nightstand next to a bouquet of pink flowers and a bar of chocolate.

 

Trevor let himself stare, something that he wouldn’t do if he wasn’t in a state he was now; half-asleep, numb, and quite unfit to judge his own actions properly. 

 

Though, he did know he was probably going crazy when he rose enough to swipe one lock of hair from Even’s forehead. Swallowing the nervousness down, he collected more courage from the lack of response he got, and traveled his fingers across Even’s cheek all the way to the narrow space where Even’s cheek met his neck. He lingered there for a moment, to feel the faint heartbeat under his fingers. 

 

Trevor felt the thickness in his throat as the same feeling of shame, devotion and sincerity washed over him like a wave, the same feeling he had felt so alien to experience during these past years. He inspected the feeling for a moment, but pushed the wave away when the same kind of realization pushed itself through those thoughts. The realization of Attachment and passion, That only came with Even.

 

He withdrew himself from the blonde and leaned against his uncomfortable chair. Even remained deeply asleep, his lips slightly parted and eyelids stiffly shut. Trevor started to feel uncomfortable staring at Even’s features, and looked away. His muscles still hurt and felt reluctant to the thought of standing up, so he sat there in the silence, listening Even breath and watching his chest fall and rise as he did. And for a moment, Trevor felt calm again, the nagging feeling still present in his mind, smaller now, but still present. He yawned. It was most likely past midnight by now, and Trevor felt the tiredness of his muscles taking over his hazy thoughts. He didn’t really think when he brought the chair closer and leaned his head against Even’s warm chest. He watched as Even breathed out and mumbled something incoherent, and continued his sleep.

 

Trevor laid his palm around Even’s hand, lazily thinking up excuses to justify this in the morning, and forgetting them as soon as his mind fell into a much needed sleep.


End file.
